


A Skyrim Fiction

by PyneTrea99



Series: A Skyrim Fan Fiction [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Multi, Skyrim - Freeform, The Companions - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyneTrea99/pseuds/PyneTrea99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Skyrim fan fiction, and I really couldn't care less which of ya read it.<br/>-<br/>:D</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Skyrim Fiction

Solitude, Haafinger Hold, Skyrim.  
4E 301

The sun rose over Solitude, painting the town in a golden glow. Proudspire Manor was the first to be touched by the light.  
I woke up, and walked to the window. The Solitude Arch was gleaming golden, and the waters of the Ghost Sea looked like flawless diamonds.  
I laughed to myself and walked to the mirror. Smallish, with thin arms, thick legs, and a slim build. A rather pathetic excuse for a Nord, I always said to myself. Then, Mother walked in. She was the fabled Dragonborn.  
Was, because she gave it up. For Father. An Imperial Mage from Riften. Mother was a Nord, a Nord who was gifted in the way of the Voice, and quite adept at picking locks and pockets.  
“Good Morning, little daisy,” she said, putting a parcel on my bed.  
“Good Morning Mother,” I replied. I walked to the bed and picked up the parcel. “What is this?” I asked.  
“As you know, you’re coming of age in a few days’ time. Your father and I have been talking, and we think it’s time for you to go your own way, if you feel like it. We’ll take you to the city you want to visit the most, and then we will be on our way back home to here. What do you reckon?” she asked, gesturing for me to unwrap the parcel.  
A gleaming dagger sat upon a folded leather cuirass and boots and greaves. “Mum? What is this?” I asked, holding up the cuirass.  
“To put it mildly, this is a leather chestpiece. These are leather greaves and they are leather boots. This dagger,” she held it up, “was taken from an ancient dragon priest who went by the name of Vokun,” the dagger gleamed like coppery gold, and the handle had a strange wired grip. The blade itself was at least fifteen inches long, and smooth, with a tapered end. It shined dully in the light from the chandelier.  
“This was from a dragon priest?” I asked, taking it.  
“Yes, I was there when your mother slew the priest,” a voice said from the door. I turned to see Father standing there, dressed in a fur nightgown.  
“Gallantly hiding in the corner from the fiery magic of the dragon priest’s staff, if I do recall correctly,” Mother turned to him with a smile.  
“Aye, that’s true,” he dropped his gaze and laughed. He walked in and stood beside Mother.  
I smiled as well. “I had a little time to think of things before this day came. I’ve always wanted to visit Whiterun, and I’ve always wanted to see the place where a captive dragon was kept!” I said.  
But the true reason I wished to go to Whiterun was to see the Companions. I wanted adventure and I sure enough wasn’t going to find it here in Solitude.  
“Of course. Your father can take you to the coach at the stables, and I will see you in Whiterun,” she said, leaving me after a quick kiss on the head.

Father shrugged. “I suppose she has some inkling about why you want to go to Whiterun. But oh well, let’s head off now, hmm? Did you want to check Radiant Raiment before you leave?”  
Hmph. Typical Dad. Wanting to spoil his daughter before he never sees her again. Reason why I said never, is because they’ll never visit me. Or I’ll die before they even get to visit me. Either of the two. But I am hoping not the second one.  
“Eh…alright,” I sighed.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked.  
I sighed again and looked out the window. “I’m not sure. But I suppose it will pass when we’re off,”  
“First, let me put some clothes on. You don’t want your old man to embarrass you in the streets of Solitude, do you?” he said, crossing his arms. I blanched. “No thank you,” I replied.

Fifteen minutes later, Father returned dressed in Adept Robes which gleamed with an enchantment that I was pretty sure was not Restoration. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he wore a pair of white fur mage boots.  
“Ready?” he said.  
I nodded, and we walked to the door. He grabbed a small satchel from the coatrack and locked the door behind us.  
“The spare key to the house is under the plant pot there,” he said, nudging the deathbell with his foot.  
“Is this in case I decide to come home without you knowing?” I asked.  
He smiled at me. “You just never know, sweetie,”

Radiant Raiment was indeed radiant. Filled to the brim with clothes and clips and necklaces of all kinds, and of the highest quality. Run by two High Elves, they only stocked the most elegant of clothes for the most discerning of lady folk. It sometimes made me wonder why Father was even allowed inside.  
“Ah hello there, please do not hesitate to call upon us, if you require assistance of any kind,” the high elven dame wearing fine grey coloured clothing approached Father and I as we entered. She smiled when she saw Father. “Marcurio! Such a pleasant surprise! Does Ra’Jesha require any formal attire for something else, now?”  
Marcurio was Father, and Ra’Jesha must be Mother! Kind of explains why Mother had a weirdish accent for a Nord. Usually names with apostrophes are Khajiiti. Hmm. I’d have to ask Mother about that in time.  
“And what do we have here?” the other elven woman asked from behind the counter. “Looking for some formal attire, were we?”  
I shrugged. “Just taking a look before I leave for Whiterun. Because I won’t be coming back for a while,”  
The elven woman behind the counter laughed. “What do you plan to achieve from going to Whiterun?” she asked.  
“I’m going to go on adventure!” I said.  
“Well, hopefully you do come back,” she replied with a smile.  
“Why?” I asked.  
“So you can spend some of your hard earned coin on our fine raiment!” she laughed discerningly.  
Father stood by the door, a little bit impatient. “Are you finished, Rose?”  
Rose was my name. Just Rose.  
“Yes, Father. Let’s go,” I said.


End file.
